


All These Bruises

by kylaer



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Annoying Siblings, Bruises, First Date, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Highscool AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Panic Attacks, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Volleyball, a lot of crying, all lowercase, child!mingi, child!san, i swear its fluffy, im funny laugh, its a soulmeeting, its for the aesthetic, mingi is babie, mingi is clumsy, san cries a lot oops, some strong language, soulmate meeting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylaer/pseuds/kylaer
Summary: it seemed every day there was a new bruise or injury somewhere on san’s body, and with each discolor or cut or scrape, came a flood of worries (and maybe a little pain).turns out his soulmate was just clumsy.
Relationships: Choi San/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 19
Kudos: 202





	1. bruises and worries

**Author's Note:**

> soulmate au where you get your soulmate’s injuries. when a pair of soulmate’s touch for the first time, they see their soulmate’s memories — but only the memories of how they got every injury.

the first time san found a bruise he didn’t remember getting, he was six-years-old and had yet to learn much about soulmates and how the soulmate system worked. the large purple mark on the outside of his left thigh was the size of the signed baseball sitting on top of his dresser. it was purple and green and  _ painful _ … and it frightened him.

he jumped out of bed and ran to his mother, crying and blubbering and sobbing about this strange bruise on his leg. 

“it must be a gift from your soulmate, dear.” she would reply with a small smile. she set down the knife she was using to cut up vegetables for their dinner and bent down to be level with him. 

“they can take it back!” san screeched. snot and tears ran down his red, puffy face. he reached down to pull his pant leg up to show off the disgusting bruise and poked it, only to recoil with another wail at the pain it brought. 

his mother scoffed. “why did you poke it?” she stood and pulled open the freezer door, digging through it for an ice pack.

little san dropped his pant leg and rubbed at his wet eyes with his chubby little hands, sniffling. “i dunno…” 

with a sigh, his mother wrapped the ice pack in a paper towel and handed it to her son. “go sit down on the couch, hon. it’ll go away soon, don’t worry.” 

“but i want it gone  _ now _ !” 

back then, san hadn’t been worried about his soulmate. his naive little mind didn’t know enough about how cruel the world could be. he only thought that his so-called soulmate was an idiot. 

——

it was little mingi’s sixth birthday when he received the bruise. he was having fun at his birthday party, (poorly) playing baseball with his friends. his big brother was the pitcher, having been the pitcher for his little league team for nearly three months.

everything was fine until it was mingi’s second turn to bat, and his big brother “accidentally” chucked the ball at his leg. 

mingi let out a loud, shrill wail, alerting the attention of every adult within the vicinity. he tossed the bat to the side and fell dramatically onto the ground, clutching onto his leg and sobbing.

his mother and father were the first to reach him, his aunt second. everyone else watched from afar as the precious birthday boy wailed in pain.

“what’s wrong, baby? what happened?” his mother asked, cupping mingi’s face and wiping his tears away with her thumbs. 

“hyung hit me with the ball!” mingi pointed an accusatory finger at his brother, who stood at the “pitchers mound” dumbly.

“it was an accident!” 

“it hurts eomma!” mingi let out another sob. one of his friends ran over and patted him on the back, picking a dandelion out of the ground and handing it to him.

mingi gripped onto the dandelion and watched as his father marched up to his big brother, putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him up to their house. “we need to have a talk, young man.” 

“where did he hit you?” his mother tilted mingi’s chin up to look at her, and when all mingi did was sob, she turned to mingi’s friend.

“did you see what happened, yunho?” 

yunho nodded eagerly, eyes shining. he was just happy to help in any way possible. “it hit his leg. right there.” he pointed to mingi’s upper thigh, smiling proudly. 

mingi’s mother nodded and picked her son up off the ground, hoisting him up and settling him on her waist. “let’s go put some ice on it, okay?” 

mingi ended up getting two slices of his birthday cake that day instead of one, and at school the next day, everyone wanted to get a look at mingi’s cool new battle scar.

——

san didn’t really start to worry about his soulmate until he was thirteen, when he started learning more about the real world. he bypassed the child-lock on his netflix account and watched ‘adult’ shows he wasn’t supposed to be watching. he read books and fan fictions online, sure to use incognito mode so that his parents wouldn’t find out. he learned about the types of abuse and self-harm that could be done to someone.

it was after he’d learnt so much about the cruel nature of the world that they lived in that he began to wonder if maybe his soulmate was a victim of abuse. 

——

a week after his fourteenth birthday, san was taking a nap on the couch in the basement. he’d fallen asleep to reruns of spongebob, and was jolted awake by the yellow sponge’s annoying laughter. 

and not even five minutes later, san’s arm was suddenly in excruciating pain. he felt hot tears prick at his eyes as he looked down at his forearm; it was crooked, and purple. 

san’s soulmate had broken their arm, meaning san’s, too, was broken as a result.

san jumped up off the couch and bolted up the stairs to his elder sister's bedroom, as she was the only other person home. he threw the door open with a cry of: “my soulmate is dying!” 

his sister jumped about ten feet in the air, slamming her laptop shut and nearly chucking it off the bed in reflex. “the hell, san!? ever heard about knocking!?” 

but san ignored her and held up his arm, showing her the broken bone and discolored skin. “we have more important issues, noona! my soulmate broke his arm and i need you to drive me to the hospital!” 

it was then that his sister registered the tears streaming down his face and the snot dripping from his nose, and the severity of the situation finally hit. she threw the blankets off of her legs and grabbed her phone and car keys. “right, let’s go.” she chucked her phone at him as they rushed down the hall and out of the house. “call mom and let her know what’s happening.”

——

mingi had a habit of climbing trees. it didn’t matter what he was wearing or where he was or what he was supposed to be doing at the time; if he could reach its lowest limbs, it was getting climbed. 

“i’m gonna climb it,” he told yunho, staring at the tree on the other side of the park. it was the perfect height for him if he stretched a little or jumped, and he could easily pull himself up. the limbs looked thick enough to stand or sit on, even high up in the top of the tree. 

yunho rolled his eyes. “don’t climb it, mingi-ah. if you fall off, then  _ i’m  _ gonna be the one that gets in trouble — cause i was stupid enough to let you do it.”

but mingi was already running toward the tree. “too late!” 

yunho scoffed and ran after him. if he couldn’t stop mingi from climbing, he could at least be there to laugh when he fell.

mingi stopped at the base of the tree and quickly grabbed the lowest branch. he jumped up and leaned over the limb, then swung his leg up and over and around it. he smirked down at yunho for a moment, before looking up into the tree. 

“be careful, idiot!” yunho called up to him.

“yeah, yeah! i got it, hyung!” mingi grabbed the branch above his head and used it to stabilize himself as he stood.

then, just to show yunho how ‘safe’ it was, he began shifting his momentum up and down, making the branch bounce. “look, hyung, it’s perfectly safe!”

“that’s great.” yunho nodded, deciding to just go along with whatever he said. maybe if mingi fell, he would learn from his mistakes. 

it was mingi, however, so he probably wouldn’t learn. 

and then the branch snapped, and mingi fell. he landed on his arm, and the crack the yunho heard when his friend landed on the ground was loud enough that yunho could just  _ imagine  _ the pain. that, and the loud sob that left mingi’s mouth. 

that was the first time yunho had to call his best friend’s mother from mingi’s phone. that was also the first time he had heard his best friend’s mother curse. 

——

when he was sixteen, san decided to join his highschool’s volleyball team. that was where he met his best friend, jung wooyoung, who was the team’s manager at the time. 

that was also where he received his first (major) bruise that wasn’t caused by his soulmate. by the end of the first week, his knees and elbows were purple from diving for the ball despite his knee and elbow pads. his forearms were constantly bright red and stinging because he’d received the ball so many times. he had a small gray bruise on his forehead and a slightly crooked nose from receiving the ball with his face. 

san found he loved the sport, despite the pain that came with it. 

but he felt guilty. guilty that he was adding onto the pain his soulmate already had to endure. 

so san quit in the middle of the second week, the heavy weight on his heart from the guilt more painful than any bruise or injury he could have ever received. 

——

“they definitely play a sport. maybe volleyball.” yunho concluded, scrutinizing mingi’s knees and arms. his knees and elbows were lightly bruised, and his forearms were red. 

“ _ definitely  _ a volleyball player.” hongjoong agreed. he picked up seonghwa’s sandwich and took a large bite out of it, ignoring the affronted look on his boyfriend’s face. “my brother comes home from practice with bruises like that all the time.” he spoke with a full mouth. 

jongho sighed. “they’re either a volleyball player, or they’re giving someone some  _ serious  _ head.”

jongho received two glares at that statement — an icy gaze from yunho, and a dagger-like look from the mother-hen seonghwa. hongjoong simply gaped at the youngest of their friend group, his food still yet to be chewed.

mingi pouted, his shoulders deflating. “you really think they’re fucking someone else?” 

“no, i said they’re sucking someone else’s dick. there’s a difference — ow!” jongho rubbed the back of his neck where seonghwa slapped him, shooting his hyung a glare.

“knock it off.” seonghwa exhaled heavily and turned back to mingi. “don’t listen to him, mingi-ah. i doubt your soulmate is fucking soemone else. he probably  _ is  _ a volleyball player, like hongjoong said.” 

“i said it first.” yunho commented, mouth full. 

“you said maybe, actually.” hongjoong pointed out, shrugging offhandedly.

yunho stared at him blankly. he then slowly turned to face mingi. “ _ defend me. _ ”

but mingi was still hooked on the bruises on his arms and legs. “you think this is payback for getting hurt so many times?”

“definitely.”

“no question.”

“you were so inconsiderate.” 

“you suck, hyung.”

“thanks so much, all of you. i feel  _ so  _ much better now.”

——

san had never really done much for his birthdays. though he was a very happy and outgoing child, he was never one to have many friends. he knew many people and he knew many people liked him, but he only considered them as aquaintances. 

wooyoung and yeosang, however… they were san’s friends. 

so for his seventeenth birthday, all san wanted was to have a sleepover with his two best friends. they’d had sleepovers before, of course, but that one was different — his parents were on their honeymoon trip in japan, and his sister was already back at uni. so they had the whole house to themselves.

of course they all felt bad for not being there for his birthday, but san told them it was fine and that they could just celebrate when they got home. looking back, he should have asked them all to stay. 

they were all cuddled up on the couch with san in the middle, covered in blankets upon blankets and watching a movie; one of san’s favorites that wooyoung and yeosang always refused to watch with him. but because it was his birthday, he got movie-picking privileges. 

“why doesn’t she just kill him while he’s distracted?” wooyoung asked, his voice low in san’s right ear. 

“because it’s hollywood, wooyoung.” yeosang responded, on san’s left.

“focus on the movie!” san hissed. 

it was silent for the next few minutes. 

then; “i told you she should have killed him. now she’s in the hospital.”

“if you don’t shut up, i  _ will  _ make you sleep on the floor.”

“shutting up.”

and then the movie was over, and san was fumbling through the blankets to find the remote. “are either of you sitting on it?” 

while yeosang sat up straight and looked under himself, wooyoung barely lifted the blankets to peer under them before concluding; “nope, not me.” 

san glared at him. “actually  _ look _ , wooyoung.” 

rolling his eyes, wooyoung sighed and sat up, helping san and yeosang search for the remote. he shoved his hand down between the couch cushions, grabbed hold of something, and yanked it out — “hey, i found my phone!” 

“good for you,” yeosang shoved his hand down the space between the other two cushions. “now find the remote.” he moved his hand back and forth through the crack and smirked once he found something. “i think i got it— nope, a flashlight. why is there a flashlight in your couch?” 

san looked from the flashlight in yeosang’s hand and back up to his face with a blank expression. “you mean you  _ don’t  _ have a flashlight in your couch? what if the power goes out while you’re on the couch and you need a flashlight, sangie?” 

yeosang rolled his eyes and shoved the flashlight back in the couch. “whatever, remote’s not down there — are you… okay?” 

at yeosang’s hesitant question, wooyoung looked up from his phone with wide eyes, watching as san lifted a hand to clutch at the collar of his shirt. 

“i can’t… can’t… breathe…” he wheezed. his chest felt tight and a sharp pain shot up his back and across his shoulder blades. he reached out and grabbed onto yeosang’s shoulder, looking up at him with fear in his eyes. “can’t— can’t… it hurts—“

“he’s having a panic attack!” wooyoung dropped his phone and threw the blankets off, jumping off of the couch to sit beside yeosang and in front of san. 

yeosang shook his head, slightly panicking as san’s gasps came in sharper and sharper by the second. “no, no — his soulmate is!”

“ _ shit _ ! what do we do!” wooyoung pulled at his hair. he lunged for his phone, quickly unlocking it and searching:  _ ‘what to do when your friend’s soulmate is having a panic attack.’  _

google was no help, as per usual.

and then suddenly, it was over as soon as it began. san sucked in a large breath and fell sideways into yeosang’s chest. he clutched at yeosang’s shirt, eyes wide as tears began to slither down his cheeks. “wha—what was — what was that? i…. i couldn’t—“

yeosang shushed him and smoothed down his hair, rubbing circles across his back soothingly. “it’s okay, sannie. it’s over, you’re alright. your soulmate had a panic attack, i think… but it’s over now. you’re okay.” 

wooyoung watched the pair, his eyes sad. he didn’t think it was fair that one of his best friends was stuck with a soulmate who was always getting hurt. a soulmate who made san scared for his life. a soulmate who made san cry like this. 

but then he scolded himself, because he knew those weren’t the kind of thoughts he should be having. 

“... wanna cuddle, sannie? and put on another movie? i can go grab us some ice cream from the freezer.” 

san nodded, and they did just that. 

——

mingi did not have a panic attack. 

he and the rest of his small friend group were in jongho’s basement. hongjoong and seonghwa were cuddling on the couch, watching a youtube video hongjoong’s brother had sent him. jongho was upside down on the beanbag in the corner of the room, scrolling through his twitter timeline. yunho was lying on the floor in the center of the room like a starfish, staring at the ceiling. mingi was lying adjacent to him with his head on yunho’s chest, staring at the black dot on the wall; he couldn’t decide if it was a nail or a spider, and he didn’t exactly want to get closer to find out.

“hey, jongho?”

jongho hummed in acknowledgment.

“is that a nail?” 

everyone looked to where mingi was pointing, and jongho nodded. “yeah.” 

“good.”

they all went back to what they were doing previously, but mingi decided he didn't like the silence, and said, “i wanna jump off the roof and do a front flip into the pool.” 

“you’re an idiot.”

“do that and i kill you.”

“i’m not calling your mom when you die.”

“bet.”

“don’t fucking encourage him!” 

“...i’m doing it.” mingi sat up and quickly bolted for the steps before anyone with sense could stop him. he waved to jongho’s parents with a wide grin as he passed by them in the living room, well aware of the four pairs of footsteps hustling to follow him. he made a beeline for the backyard, ignoring everyone’s shouts as he grabbed the ladder jongho’s father had yet to put away, and leaned it against the side of the house.

with a smirk sent toward hongjoong, who was the first to make it out of the house behind him, mingi began to climb. 

“get your stupid ass off of that ladder!” hongjoong yelled. but his fatherly instincts took over and he quickly rushed forward, holding onto the bottom of the ladder so that it wouldn’t topple over. 

seonghwa, yunho, and jongho each pushed and shoved to be the next one out of the house, both yunho and jongho already filming mingi’s idiocy to post on their snapchat stories. 

“too late, hyung!” mingi called from the top, and he rolled over onto the flat roof. he popped his head over the side, grinning. “if i die, i want you all to tell my mother that I love her! my dad… i love him too, i guess. my brother not so much. tell him to fuck himself!” 

“if you die, can i write your eulogy?” jongho called. 

“i already have one written.” yunho laughed at jongho’s crestfallen expression. 

mingi stood and ripped off his hoodie and pants, soon followed by his socks— his shoes were still sitting patiently by the front door. “holy fuck, it’s cold!” he yelled. he gathered up his clothes and dropped them down to his friends below, his pants landing on yunho’s head and a sock falling in one of mrs. choi’s rose bushes. 

“on the count of three, hyung!” 

mingi stepped back away from the edge, shaking out his limbs and preparing for a running start. 

“one!” 

he cracked his knuckles and neck. 

“two!” 

he stretched out his legs and flexed his toes, heart hammering in his chest. 

“three! go!” 

mingi let out a yell as he ran to the edge and pushed himself forward off the roof, tucking his knees to his chest. he rolled three times as he fell before he felt the water, hard against his back. he felt the water surround him, and he vaguely could hear jongho and yunho’s laughter above the surface. 

but when he came back up, gasping for breath and gripping onto the edge of the pool with wide eyes, the laughter stopped. 

his back stung —  _ a lot.  _ and he couldn’t breathe. it felt like his lungs were collapsing in on themselves. it felt like his ribs had rearranged themselves. “ _ fuck _ ..” he managed to wheeze out. he felt a pair of hands on each of his arms and drew in sharp, stuttered gasps as hongjoong and jongho yanked him out of the pool. they laid him out on the ground and rolled him over onto his back. 

“fuck, he can’t breathe right,” yunho pointed out. 

“i’m going to get my mom!” jongho yelled. he then bolted for the back door, screaming about how mingi was dying and they needed to call an ambulance. 

it hadn't even been ten seconds before jongho’s mother was in mingi’s line of sight. “follow my breaths, mingi. in… out… in… out…” mrs. choi sucked in exaggerated breaths and let them out slowly. it took a few tries for mingi to do the same, and they kept going until mingi could finally breathe on his own. “you okay, honey?”

mingi nodded, sputtering out a hoarse cough. “... i think so.” he turned to jongho, breathing heavily and eyes half-lidded. “help me up.” 

jongho grabbed both of his hands and lifted him into a sitting position. hongjoong sat behind mingi and wrapped a large, fluffy towel around mingi’s shaking shoulders. he rubbed his hands up and down mingi’s arms for a few long moments, then wrapped his arms around mingi’s upper body. “you fucking idiot.” 

mingi couldn’t help but laugh, wincing slightly at the pain. “yeah, i know.”

“just think,” jongho plopped down beside them, soon followed by seonghwa and yunho. “you could have died, and your last word would have been “fuck.” 

“language,” his mother warned. 

“but hongjoong hyung just said it-!” 

“hongjoong is not my child. what he says is none of my concern.”

“still, though…” yunho started, shrugging. “would have been a pretty awesome way to die.” 

mingi nodded. “would have been legendary.” 

seonghwa sighed heavily, shaking his head. “your poor soulmate. mingi, you gotta think these things through.”

jongho nodded in agreement. “yeah, your soulmate’s been through enough shit already cause of you, hyung.” 

mingi nodded, smiling sadly. “i know. i just… wanna have fun, i guess.” 

“can’t you have fun without getting hurt?” hongjoong’s asked, carding his fingers through mingi’s wet hair. 

“where’s the fun in that?” 

yunho laughed a little, shaking his head. “you really are an idiot, mingi.” 

“so i’ve been told.” 

mingi spent the next hour-and-a-half being scolded and babied by jongho’s mother. 

—— 

yeosang was going through his friend’s snapchat stories mindlessly, barely paying attention to the movie playing. san had fallen asleep a while ago with his head on yeosang’s shoulder, and wooyoung was quick to follow, falling asleep on san’s lap. 

yeosang finally came upon his friend jongho’s story. he went to a different school in the next town over, but he and yeosang met at a fundraiser for a hospital a few years back. the pair rarely talked, but when they did, it was typically because of something on one of their snapchat stories. 

yeosang barely paid attention to the first few posts — jongho complaining about his math homework, jongho’s after-school snack of strawberries, one of jongho’s friends choking on a strawberry — but then the fourth caught his attention enough that he went back and watched it a few times. 

it was one of jongho’s tall friends, a boy with floppy brown hair cut to about the middle of his ear, the ends dyed a faded green. it started with him running out the back door, and soon the boy was up a ladder and on top of the roof, tearing his clothes off. he took a running leap and flipped off of the roof and into the pool. the video ended when he resurfaced, struggling to breathe. 

the last post was a black screen with the caption “he’s still alive, dw”.

_ struggling to breathe. _

yeosang glanced down at san, a furrow in his brow. 

it was a long shot — a  _ very  _ long shot — but…

yeosang swiped up on the video and sent jongho an albeit cryptic message. 

**yeosang**

i think i know who your dumb friend’s soulmate is

it was a few minutes before jongho replied.

**jongho**

which one? all of my friends are dumbasses

**yeosang**

the one that drowned

**jongho**

ah,, really? him? 

**yeosang**

a few minutes ago my friend san couldn’t breathe right. he said his back hurt and his chest felt tight… your friend’s back hit the water pretty hard and when he came back up he couldn’t breathe

**jongho**

holy shit

yeosang wasn’t sure before, but he definitely was after his conversation with jongho. yeosang told him about the bruises on san’s knees and elbows and the redness and stinging on his arms from when he played volleyball. jongho told yeosang about the broken arm and the bruise from the baseball. they talked about so many other injuries that san and mingi had in common. 

yeosang threw his phone down and slapped san awake, excitement bubbling up in his chest. 

“what, what?” san grumbled, swatting at yeosang’s hands. 

“san,” yeosang prompted. 

“hmm?” 

“i think i found your soulmate.” 


	2. tears run dry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> san and mingi finally meet, but it doesn't go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning; heavy mentions of abuse and bullying. small mention of a panic attack.

“i’m going to die.”

“ _ you’re not gonna die, you overdramatic baby.”  _

“nope, i’m definitely gonna die. you better start planning my funeral.”

jongho let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the zoom call, his voice grainy as it came through the speakers of mingi’s slightly water-logged laptop. “ _ i’m not planning anything, mingi.”  _

mingi crossed his arms as he stood in front of the camera, lips jutted out in a pout. “fine. hongjoong hyung, will you plan my funeral?” 

hongjoong shook his head, laughing a little. “ _ you’ll be fine, mingi-ah. stop worrying so much.”  _

mingi turned to yunho and seonghwa, who were digging through the back of mingi’s closet. “you find anything yet?” 

seonghwa barely looked over his shoulder to address his worrywart dongsaeng. “if yunho would stop throwing my outfit choices back in the closet, we would have found something over half-an-hour ago!” 

“it’s not my fault you have the fashion sense of an aardvark!” yunho retorted. the two fell into their fifth argument in the past ten minutes. 

mingi turned back to his laptop with a sigh. “maybe we should start planning yunho’s funeral instead.” 

_ “i’m not planning anyone’s funeral!” _ hongjoong yelled. 

jongho just laughed. 

nine minutes and roughly fifty-seven seconds later, seonghwa and yunho finally emerged from the closet, each holding different articles of clothing. a pair of black, clunky leather sneakers, black ripped jeans, a skintight black turtleneck, and a thin overshirt made from a flowy material were all chucked at him with a demand of; “try these on.” 

mingi did as told, stripping down to just his underwear. he quickly put on the outfit, trying to ignore the butterflies flapping their wings inside his stomach — from nervousness or excitement, he couldn’t tell. it was probably both.

when mingi pulled the jacket on, he turned to his mirror, scrutinizing the fit. it wasn’t great, in all honesty, what with yunho and seonghwa’s mixed tastes in fashion, but it would do. he turned around, facing his stylists with extended arms. “how does it look?”

seonghwa and yunho looked him over before sharing a look. seonghwa nodded, and yunho quickly rushed to mingi’s dresser. he grabbed a thin silver chain from a small glass bowl on top of the dresser and strung one of mingi’s rings on it, before clasping it around mingi’s neck. 

yunho smiled. “there; now you’re perfect.” 

“... he’d look even more perfect if he wore these instead.” seonghwa held up a pair of chunky black boots, obviously intending to switch them out for the clunky black sneakers already on his feet. Mingi hadn’t even remembered buying them, and wondered if maybe one of them had gifted him the boots from their own closet.

“holy fuck, you’re right!”

“and his hair gelled back like that cockatoo thing he once did!”

“no, no -- it looks better messy!” 

“of course, what was i thinking! and all black earrings—“

“and the one that wraps around his anti-helix!” 

_ “i wanna see what he looks like!”  _

“be fucking patient!”

“WE ARE WORKING ON A MASTERPIECE!” 

——

san sat in front of his floor-length mirror, a micro-mirror in hand as he carefully plucked out individual eyebrow hairs. wooyoung lovingly pointed out that his eyebrows were starting to look like caterpillars again, and because san didn’t want to meet his potential soulmate with cater-brows, the first thing he did was tweeze them while yeosang and wooyoung pondered over the outfits he had laid out on his bed. 

“this one’s a little too fancy, don’t you think?” 

“there’s no such thing as too fancy.”

“but they’re going to a zoo — i don’t think tight-ass jeans are good for that amount of walking.” 

“but his ass looks amazing in those jeans and—“

“thank you,” san piped up.

“—they're only going to the zoo if the café part of the date goes well—“ 

well that certainly was  _ not  _ helping san’s nerves.

“— so if that doesn’t go well, then at least san’s ass looks good!” 

“well, the café date  _ will _ go well. and when it does, tight jeans won’t be practical for walking for three hours straight. it’ll chafe.” 

wooyoung sighed, relenting — for the time-being. “fine. what about this outfit, then? it’s more fancy-casual than just fancy.”

“the jeans are still tight, though.” yeosang’s turned to san, arms crossed. “is all you own tight jeans?” 

san looked up at him in the mirror’s reflection. “well, i have other pants… but i think they’re all tight.” 

“as they should be!” wooyoung cried. “your ass looks fucking amazing in tight pants, and to not show it off would be a crime!” 

yeosang picked up one of the shirts on san’s bed, twisted it up, and whipped wooyoung with it. “san’s more than just a piece of ass, wooyoung!” 

“i know that! all i’m saying is that if you have an ass like that, you should show it off and be proud of it!” 

“you know what?” san interjected. “i think i have a pair of loose cargo pants. i think they’re camo? why don’t i just pair that with a black turtleneck and my doc martens?” 

wooyoung and yeosang shared a look, then nodded. 

“we can dress it up a bit.” wooyoung decided. “we can dutch braid the sides of his hair back and put on a bit of makeup, maybe a light smokey eye and a clear lip gloss — and some jewelry.” he walked over to san’s vanity and opened up his jewelry box, picked out a few rings and different sizes of diamond earring studs, then waltzed over to san’s closet and grabbed a thick silver chain for a belt. he threw them all on the bed, then turned to san; “now find the rest of the outfit.” 

san did as told, pushing through all of his clothes to find the aforementioned articles of clothing. 

“why are you so obsessed with him looking fancy, woo?” san heard yeosang ask. 

“i want him to look like a million bucks!”

“he already does!” 

——

the cafe that yeosang and jongho chose for san and ming’s initial meeting was your typical non-franchise coffee shop. it had a mix of starbucks’ aesthetic and desserts/snacks and dunkin’s coffee, with additional seating and mellow pop music playing through the speakers that just seemed to pull the whole place together. 

though mingi had arrived roughly fifteen minutes early, he had yet to actually order anything. instead he made a beeline for the nearest open table, seonghwa’s loving “advice” repeating like a mantra in his mind.

_ when you get there, don’t order anything. wait until he arrives and do your little soul meeting thing, and then offer to buy him coffee and a dessert or something. even if he rejects your offer, don’t back down _ . _ you put him through hell these past few years with your stupidity - especially that stunt you pulled the other night - so you  _ will  _ buy him a drink and some food. understand, mingi? _

seonghwa was very specific with his orders.

but mingi didn’t mind. without seonghwa telling him what to do, he probably would have just sat there dumbly, a blanket of awkwardness wrapped around him as he waited for his potential soulmate to decide everything. 

as the clock ticked closer and closer to 2 o’clock, mingi’s nerves sky-rocketed higher and higher. his gaze flicked back and forth between the time on his phone’s lock screen and the door, anxiously waiting for san to enter. every time the little sleigh bells above the door chimed, mingi swore his heart skipped a beat - maybe two. or maybe even three. 

with two minutes left until their agreed upon rendezvous time, mingi realized he had no clue what san looked like. they hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers beforehand, not wanting to get too attached to each other in case they weren’t destined to be together - very unlikely, according to jongho, but still a disappointing possibility. 

would san know who to look for when he entered the cafe? or perhaps san was already there, and mingi hadn’t noticed him. he was so worried about finding an empty table that he hadn’t even thought to search the room for any anxious faces, awaiting the arrival of their soulmate. but there was always the possibility that san would decide not to come, too, and there was a small part of mingi that wished that was the case.

the thought was quickly expelled from his mind, however, when the sleigh bells jingled once more. 

the man that walked in glanced around the inside of the cafe, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

he had the shoulder-to-waist ratio of a dorito.

with wide eyes and shaking hands, mingi turned on his phone to look at the time;  _ 2 o’clock.  _

mingi realized with an unsteady breath that if this dorito-shaped man wasn't his soulmate, he would be very upset. 

——

san had been in the passenger seat of yeosang’s car for the past twenty minutes, ten of which said car had been parked on the curb a few shops down from the cafe. 

“it’s almost two,” yeosang warned, when san made no move to open the door and head toward the cafe. 

san just hummed and pulled down the sun visor, flicking open the plastic cover to reveal the mirror behind it. he dabbed at the raspberry-colored gloss on his lips with the pad of his middle finger before rubbing his lips together. he turned his head to the side to scrutinize the dutch braids wooyoung had made before they left san’s house, making sure that no strands of hair had fallen out of place.

wooyoung, who was stuck in the middle seat of the back row, rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “stop wasting time, sannie. you look fine.” 

san huffed, freshly plucked brows upturned. “i’m nervous.”

“you’d be insane if you weren't,” yeosang assured. “it’s gonna be fine.”

san bit his lip. he couldn’t help but be skeptical.

“stop biting your lip,” wooyoung hissed.

san released his lip. he turned to yeosang, his eyes pleading. “are you sure you can’t tell me anything about him? about his injuries? maybe if i knew a bit more i wouldn't be so--”

yeosang cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “you’ll find out when you touch him, san.”

san’s cheeks flushed a muted red. “you don’t have to word it like that!”

wooyoung snorted.

yeosang, however, simply rolled his eyes. “you don’t have to do anything but… touch each other's pointer fingers if you don’t want to. it’ll work even if you do it fingernail to fingernail.”

“as long as he’s your soulmate,” wooyoung piped in.

yeosang turned to glare at him. “you’re not helping, woo.”

“oops.”

san swallowed, but the lump in his throat was still there. he turned to the door of the cafe, watching as an elderly couple exited the building, hand-in-hand with smiles on their wrinkly faces. 

“i can’t do this,” he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

yesoang reached across the center console to grab one of his hands, and he felt wooyoung’s small grip on his shoulder. 

“you  _ can, _ ” wooyoung insisted.

“and if it turns out he’s not your soulmate, that’s okay.” yesoang rubbed a small circle on the back of san's hand. “woo and i will wait here for ten minutes, just in case, all right? we’re not gonna leave until we’re sure you’re okay.” 

san was eternally grateful for his best friends. without them, he’d probably be a depressed, lonely bitch for the rest of his life. 

wooyoung’s grip on his shoulder tightened, and wooyoung leaned forward so that his head was poking between the front seats. “go in there and seduce that man- hey!”

wooyoung yelped as yesoang pushed his face back, shoving him into the back row. “shut up, woo.” 

san laughed at their antics, and for a short moment, the butterflies in his stomach stopped fluttering their wings. “thanks guys.” he smiled slightly, the corners of his glossed lips quirked upward. his dimples appeared -- barely, but they were there. 

wooyoung and yeosang stopped fighting momentarily, turning to their friend with supportive grins. “just be you,” yeosang instructed. “greet him and do the soulmeeting, then go from there. got it?”

“got it,” san nodded. with that, he inhaled deeply, and opened the car door. he stepped up on the sidewalk and bent over slightly to wave goodbye (hopefully for the rest of the night) to wooyoung and yesoang, before making his way toward the cafe, his gait wide and quick. 

at exactly 2 o’clock, he pulled open the door and stepped inside, the bells above the doorway jingling to alert everyone of his presence. he let the door swing closed behind him as his eyes wandered the room, his heart rate picking up speed every millisecond.

he saw a small group of college-age girls in the corner booth. an elderly man sat alone at a table near them. two middle-aged women were immersed in an obviously riveting conversation, as they weren’t very focused on their children who were rubbing cupcake icing into a baby’s hair. three middle-aged men in business suits sat on the opposite side of the building, discussing… whatever businessmen discussed, and laughing. there were about four people waiting in line to order, and three waiting in the pick-up area. and-

san made eye contact with the brown-haired male in the center of the room, the ends of his hair dyed a faded green. his eyes were open wide as he gaped at san, a hopeful spark in them. he fiddled with his phone, and when he noticed that san had spotted him, he smiled wide.

he looked intimidating. like someone that didn’t want to be there -- up until he smiled.

when he smiled, he not only lit up his blank, expressionless face, but he seemed to light up the room. his smile made his eyes crinkle heavily, and pulled back so far that his pink gums were revealed to the world. 

his smile made san feel… calm, in a way. 

once he got over his initial shock, san stepped forward. he felt his own smile pull at his glossy lips as he weaved through the maze of tables until he reached the table where his (hopefully) soulmate sat.

he didn't sit down, though. he had to be sure. 

“are you song mingi?” he asked.

the bright boy nodded, and the tension in san’s shoulders almost completely alleviated. 

“choi san?” the boy asked. his voice was deep, but almost nasal. 

san nodded, and the boy’s grin somehow grew. he quickly pushed out his seat and rushed around to the other end of the table to pull out the other chair. 

san flushed bright red. 

“here, sit.” mingi offered. he quickly added a ‘please.’

san smiled softly as he sat down. when mingi pushed the chair back under the table with ease, he muttered a soft “thank you.”

“no problem,” mingi replied. he quickly rounded the table once more and sat down in his seat, and san wondered if his quick, almost flippant actions were from nerves or excitement. he honestly couldn’t tell. 

mingi smiled sheepishly. “so,” he started. his smile faltered the slightest bit. “how do we…” 

he trailed off, but san understood well enough what he was asking. 

his heart skipped a beat, then thumped rapidly in his chest in response. “do you want to…” san lifted his hand as if he were going to wave, but his fingers only curled down toward his own palm slightly.

to his surprise, mingi reached forward and laced his fingers between san’s, their palms flat against the other.

they stared at each other with wide eyes when they realized what mingi had done; he was so eager to see if they were soulmates that he just… held san’s hand. like they had known each other for a long time and it was a completely normal thing for them to do. “i'm sorry!” he began to pull his hand away. “i didn’t--”

but mingi didn’t have time to finish, because suddenly san’s vision was swarmed with black, and his ears could no longer register anything but the blood rushing through his head. 

the darkness soon faded. the first thing that san could make out was the blurry form of a little boy. there were muffled screams of joy and laughter in the background, but somehow san knew that they were coming from the vision, and weren’t from anywhere inside the cafe. 

san realized with a start that this little boy was mingi. he couldn’t have been any older than five or six. the little boy had a baseball bat slung over his shoulder, ready to swing. a wide grin was on his lips, and beads of sweat slithered their way down his forehead, making it obvious that he’d been running around a lot beforehand. 

“throw the ball, hyung!” the little mingi called out. 

san turned, finding an older boy on a small plastic square, no doubt their version of a pitcher’s mound. and the older boy was probably mingi’s older brother, or maybe an older cousin. 

san watched as the boy pulled back his arm and threw the ball. he turned back to the little mingi just in time to see the ball whack against his upper thigh.

it wasn’t even ten seconds later that little mingi let out a wail, falling to the ground dramatically. 

san wanted to rush forward and see if he was okay. but despite the fact that he wasn’t really  _ there _ , he had felt the pain of that one, and knew that little mingi would be limping slightly for the next two days. 

the vision shifted, and suddenly little mingi was replaced by an older version. his head looked a little too big for the rest of his body. san deducted that this mingi was in his early teens -- current mingi had grown into his head, and he’d done it well. 

san watched as mingi ran toward a tree. he tried to remember what had happened in their early teens. there were many things, but nothing all too severe, which is why so many years of mingi’s life were skipped in the visions. 

mingi began climbing the tree, and san remembered -- it was a week after his fourteenth birthday and he’d just woken up from a nap, when out of nowhere his arm was broken. his sister had to drive him to the hospital. 

san’s mouth gaped. he watched silently as mingi bounced on the lowest limb of the tree, someone one the ground yelling up at him. 

the idiot had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm. 

mingi was on the ground seconds later, another wail leaving his lips.

san had been worried about his soulmate for so long -- worried that he’d gotten into a fight with someone, or maybe he’d been bullied. The bruises and scrapes leading up to the broken arm always made him wonder if he was being picked on at school or if his parents or a guardian had been abusing him. 

but the idiot had only fallen out of a tree. 

the vision shifted one more time. this mingi looked the same as the one sitting across from san in the cafe.

he was standing on top of a roof in just his underwear. his smile was huge, full of excitement and mischeviety. san heard muffled voices somewhere in his head - something like a countdown. and then suddenly mingi took a running leap off of the roof, somersaulting into the pool of water in the ground below. 

mingi came up gasping for breath. Ssan watched, heartbeat stalled, as two of mingi’s friends pulled him out of the water and laid him on his back. someone yelled that he wasn't breathing.

san had thought it was a panic attack. he thought hat mingi had gotten himself so worked up over something that he couldn’t breathe. he’d thought that mingi was someone that needed saving, when in reality…

mingi was just a big, clumsy dumbass.

the mingi in his vision sat up with the help of his friends, gasping for breath. 

san’s vision went dark again, and when he opened his eyes, he met a pair of brown hues, gazing at him with uncertainty.

“you idiot,” san muttered.

and then, he began to cry.

——

mingi didn’t know what to think. san had called him an idiot and then immediately started crying, skinny tears dripping down his face as he struggled to hold in his sobs. he wouldn’t look mingi in the eye.

he was thinking he should probably comfort san, for starters. and that maybe they shouldn’t have picked such a public place for their soul meeting; people loved to stare.

mingi, however, had been told many-a-time that he was intimidating when he wasn’t smiling. he looked scary. he looked like a thug. so mingi pursed his lips into a thin line and leveled a cold glare on anyone that bothered to glance toward them. to his delight, everyone looked away, going back to their business.

the two middle aged women finally noticed the purple icing in their baby’s hair, and one of them screeched. 

but mingi wasn’t worried about the oddly silent baby. he was worried about his soulmate who was in tears, and looked about ready to dry heave. 

mingi had half a mind to quickly text seonghwa --  _ hey my soulmate’s crying because im an idiot,, what do i do  _ \-- but mingi already knew what seonghwa would say;

_ comfort him, you dumbass!  _

it was either that, or seonghwa came directly to the cafe to deal with the crying boy himself. 

mingi’s doubts were fluttering around in his mind. he didn’t exactly know how to comfort people. he was always the one being comforted. when it came to his friends and their tears, he would typically just cuddle them until they told him they felt better, and even then he still wouldn’t let go for another hour -- or until he was elbowed in the nuts and forced to let go.

san, though… mingi didn’t think he would be very comfortable with an impromptu cuddle-sesh -- especially not when he had somehow caused san’s tears.

with a heavy sigh, mingi pushed out his chair and stood. his steps were heavy and slow as he rounded the table, his eyes on san’s shuddering form. mingi stopped beside the crying boy and crouched down beside him.

san looked down at mingi, his eyes wide as streams continued to pour from them. he had a hand clamped over his mouth in an attempt to muffle whatever sobs and gasps escaped his lips, smudging the sticky raspberry gloss. 

brows upturned in worry, mingi lifted his hand, hovering his palm above san’s leg. he wrestled with himself, debating if he would make things better or worse by trying to touch his soulmate again. against his better judgement, mingi slowly lowered his hand to rest on top of san’s knee. he felt san’s leg jump slightly beneath his palm, and began smoothing small circles onto the scratchy fabric of san’s camo cargo pants with his thumb.

mingi didn't know what he was doing -- a common occurrence -- but small, soothing touches like that always helped to calm him down. as long as there was some sort of physical contact. 

“... i’m sorry.” he mumbled. he didn’t quite know what he had to be sorry for, but it was blatantly obvious that he was the reason for san’s tears. “i didn’t… i didn't mean to make you cry.”

he watched as san’s head shook back and forth. he heard another sharp gasp, before san was lowering his hand away from his mouth and averting his eyes to the tabletop. he seemed to hesitate for a long moment before tentatively settling his (clean) palm on top of mingi’s. “i-i thought -” san had to pause to suck in a breath. “i thought you-you were be-being--” another breath. “--being abu-” there was a hiccup, that time. “-sed.”

mingi’s eyes widened. his thumb paused in its circulation, but resumed -- slower this time -- when san made a strange sound; something between a gasp and a sob, mingi decided.

“for the long-est time, i-i was so -- i was so  _ worried  _ about you!” another unsteady breath, and mingi squeezed down on san’s knee the slightest bit. “But you were just stupid and clumsy…” san trailed off, unaware of mingi’s small wince.

it wasn’t as if mingi hadn’t been warned. his friends had told him time and time again that all he was doing with his “fun” was making his soulmate miserable. but he hadn’t paid it any mind, especially not after those sports injuries stopped showing up. mingi had always thought that if his soulmate really  _ was  _ miserable, then they would have kept playing their sport, a surefire way to get their revenge on mingi.

his logic was flawed -- he knew that. but he was stubborn, and hadn’t cared much up until the most recent incident. up until now, with his soulmate crying because he’d been worried about mingi all of those years.

mingi really was one massive douche. 

“i’m so sorry.” mingi looked down at their hands, still resting on top of san’s knee. “i never thought… i never thought about how you would feel when i did those things. i just…” mingi paused, searching for the right words. he was never very good with those, either. “i never cared much for my own well being. it was always “fun now, worry about everything else later.” i’m so,  _ so  _ sorry; that included you -- my fucking  _ soulmate  _ \-- too, and it shouldn’t have.” mingi looked to the floor, ashamed. “i should have put you first. i should have thought things through first.” 

they were both silent for a long moment. other than the occasional sudden gasps or small hiccups, san seemed to be calmer, now. 

calm enough that he could make a full sentence, at least. “i always thought that maybe you were being bullied.” mingi looked up at him, shocked that san had been the first to speak up again. “or that maybe you were being abused… by your parents or whoever your guardian was.” san sighed, and mingi watched as his lips trembled slightly. “the bruises were just so frequent and i had convinced myself that those were the most viable options. 

“i’m just…” san finally turned his head, locking eyes with mingi. his eyes were so sparkly and brown and kind-looking. and then san smiled -- a soft smile that mingi didn’t deserve. “i’m just glad that wasn’t the case.” 

their eyes remained locked on each other for a long moment. they studied each other, searching for hidden emotions and calculating what the blatant emotion laced onto their expressions meant. 

when the bells above the door jingled, san’s smile fell. he glanced around the room, suddenly hyper-aware of the people surrounding them, and his cheeks flushed. he took his hand off of mingi’s, but mingi let his rest on san’s knee, the top of his hand now cold. he watched with an unreadable expression as san peered into the reflective surface of the napkin holder on top of their table, and frowned. 

san looked back down at mingi, a poor attempt at a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “i have to use the restroom. i’ll be right back, mingi.” 

before waiting for a response, he stood. mingi’s limp hand fell from his leg and mingi’s eyes followed him as he made his way over to the restroom, hiding his red eyes from anyone that looked his way. 

san slipped into the bathroom, and mingi finally stood, stretching out his legs before falling into his own seat with a heavy sigh. he pulled out his phone, debating between texting the group chat or  _ just  _ seonghwa. he quickly decided on the latter, not wanting to deal with any of jongho’s ridicule.

**mingi**

i messed up hyung

i think he hates me


	3. coffee and bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> forgiveness doesn't always come easily, but san has a soft heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long for me to update, i really have no valid excuse oops
> 
> also, pay attention to the parallels throughout the chapter! i'm kinda proud of them lol

san stood in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully cleaning smudged mascara from around his eyes with a heavily drenched wad of toilet paper. luckily -- despite wooyoung’s insistence -- he hadn’t put on any concealer or foundation, just a small bit of eyeshadow and a thin layer of mascara, paired with the raspberry gloss. 

all of which had smudged during san’s meltdown, and which he was currently trying his best to fix with limited resources. 

how embarrassing. 

while his hands moved on autopilot, reaching into one of his many pockets to grab his favorite tube of travel-sized mascara and the raspberry lip gloss, his mind was racing. thoughts merged and split like cells and atoms. he couldn’t focus on a single train of thought, his mind soon delving into something else. his emotions were the same; tied together but so different all at the same time.

he was upset mingi hadn’t been worried about him until after they were both hurt.

he was upset that mingi wasn’t worried about his  _ own  _ safety. 

he was concerned about the baby with icing matted into its hair.

he was relieved their soulmeeting was finally over with.

but he was happy. he was happy he’d finally met his soulmate. his fated partner. his perfect other half. and despite everything else, he was happy that his soulmate was mingi. 

san lightly brushed the mascara wand against his eyelashes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. he thought of mingi’s smile. of the way it brightened the whole cafe. of the way it made san’s nerves calm down, even only for a few mere moments. 

he thought of how excited mingi looked before he leapt off the roof. he thought of mingi’s grin before the branch snapped and he fell five or six feet to the round. he thought of the challenging smirk little mingi had before his brother threw the baseball and hit his thigh. 

he thought of the cries that left his lips when he’d gotten hurt. he thought of the gasps for breath that mingi heaved as he emerged from the water. he thought of the tears mingi had shed after each incident.

and san’s heart clenched.

he’d felt all of it, too. he’d gotten hurt in the process, even if it wasn’t mingi’s intention. 

san stared into his own eyes through his reflection. the normally white sclera was tinted a light red, barely noticeable. his bottom eyelid was lined with the threat of more tears. he didn’t want to cry.

san stood tall, his shoulders back and his chin held high, and he looked fine. or at least he hoped he did.

with a heavy sigh, san swapped the small makeup tubes for his phone. he found a few texts from both yeosang and wooyoung in their groupchat. 

**yeosang**

how’s it going so far?

**wooyoung**

did you guys kiss yet? 

ten bucks says they did

**yeosang**

they’re not gonna kiss within the first half hour of their first date woo

**wooyoung**

do you accept the bet or not

**yeosang**

up it to fifteen and i’ll consider it

**wooyoung**

14.99 take it or leave it

**yeosang**

better than nothing 

san shook his head, laughing a little at their antics. he raised his thumbs to begin typing a reply, but paused when another text came through.

**yeosang**

sannie? 

**san**

he’s my soulmate

**wooyoung**

wndncjjsjcjs this makes me so happy one of us has finally found love

**yeosang**

is everything going good? i can come back and pick you up if you need me to

**san**

no i’m okay

san debated telling them about what had happened. he nearly hit the group facetime button. but with a glance at the clock he realized he’d spent enough time in the bathroom, and mingi was probably about twenty seconds from coming to see what was taking so long.

so instead;

**san**

i’ll explain everything later ^-^

also woo you owe hyung 14.99

**wooyoung**

my day is ruined

san stuffed his phone back into his pocket, simultaneously checking his reflection one last time. even with just that small interaction with his best friends, he felt so much better — he felt  _ lighter _ . he looked less like he was about to burst into tears and more like he could take on the world. 

it was a funny thing, friendship. he wondered how he had survived those sixteen years without them. 

——

mingi’s phone was lying face-up on the table, screen off. as he stared down at it, he could just barely make out his reflection; brows upturned, eyes glimmering with worry, and lips pulled between his teeth. his hands were buried in his hair, tangled strands twisting further and further around his fingers every time he pulled at them. 

he’d fucked up. he fucked up so,  _ so  _ bad. he cursed at his past self for everything he’d ever done. every injury, minor or major. they all brought his soulmate pain — they brought  _ san _ pain. 

the reminder that his soulmate was no longer just a nameless person he didn’t have to worry about smacked him in the face every time he thought of the way san looked when he cried. 

mingi didn’t think he would ever forget the absolutely heartbroken expression on san’s face when he’d been pulled from the memories, or the way each of san’s strangled sobs felt like a stab to the heart. 

mingi had been so happy. he was ecstatic watching san’s memories. not because san was hurt, but because he was able to watch san grow up. he got to see san throughout all of the major changes in his life. he got to see how his family loved and cared for him every time he was hurt. 

and then —  _ BAM!  _

san was crying and in pain, and it was all mingi’s fault. 

mingi had felt heartache before, through both himself, and through san.

but this one… this one had to be the most painful. because it was  _ all mingi’s fault.  _

he was such an idiot. 

seonghwa still hadn’t answered. mingi wanted his hyung to tell him that san didn’t hate him. he wanted to hear that things would be okay. that he and san would be okay. he just wanted comfort from one of his best friends. then maybe he’d feel less like an absolute jackass. 

mingi’s skin crawled when san took his seat across from him. and he was smiling. it was like he was silently trying to tell mingi that everything would be okay. 

and,  _ god _ , mingi didn’t deserve it. he didn’t deserve to have san sit across from him, let alone have san in general. not after all of the shit that he put san through. but that smile gave mingi hope. 

before mingi could even think about spewing apology after apology, san reached across the table — on an absolute whim, it seemed — and gently pulled mingi’s hands out of his hair. he held them in his own, and mingi felt his heart melt as san rubbed the smooth pads of his thumbs across mingi’s wrinkled knuckles. 

“i’m sorry for running away like that. and i’m sorry for making a scene in the middle of a cafe.” san smiled sheepishly, averting his eyes from mingi’s own. 

mingi wanted to tell san that that stuff didn’t matter and that he shouldn't be ashamed for feeling his emotions so strongly. he wanted to apologize for everything he’d ever done to hurt or worry san. 

but san wasn’t done. 

“but i want you to know that… we’re okay, mingi. i don’t think i forgive you, not yet anyway.” san lifted his gaze, finally, and looked straight into mingi’s eyes. his smile made mingi feel like everything was right in the world. “but we’re okay.” 

those three words were enough to make mingi want to cry. 

he swallowed down the lump in his throat, and couldn’t help the small grin that spread across his lips. “i’ll make it up to you, san. i promise.”

the corner of san’s mouth lilted upward. “i’ll be holding you to that.” he squeezed mingi’s hands lightly, and then slipped them away. 

before the atmosphere could devolve into something awkward, san turned to the side and nodded toward the bar. “are we getting some coffee for the road?” 

_ offer to buy him coffee and a dessert or something. even if he rejects your offer, don’t back down _ . __

mingi stood, nodding a little too eagerly. “yeah, what do you want? i’ll pay.” 

san blinked up at him for a moment, mouth parted slightly. “how about…” san paused for the smallest moment, but when he continued, he spoke with a smile. “we go up and order together, and whoever has the most complex order has to pay?” 

mingi half expected san to protest, half expected san to immediately agree to the free coffee. the last thing mingi ever would have anticipated was for san to make a little game out of it. 

mingi liked it better this way. 

“you’re on.” 

——

san’s eyes steadily made their way across the menu on the back wall up above the bar. though he had a semblance of an idea of what he wanted, there were so many flavors and varieties of coffee that trying to narrow it down to one thing nearly sent his mind spinning. 

so he turned to mingi beside him, and realized for the first time that he actually had to look up a bit to meet mingi’s eyes. 

he typically hated when people were taller than him. he loved to rub his extra two centimeters of height into yeosang and wooyoung’s faces, and nearly always wore platformed shoes to make himself just a little bit taller. 

but with mingi, the height difference almost made him feel…  _ safe _ . yes, that was the word. his and mingi’s height difference made him feel a little sense of security. san briefly wondered what it would be like if mingi came up behind him and settled his chin on the top of san’s head, carefully wrapping his long arms around san’s upper body. 

and then san remembered why he turned to mingi in the first place. 

“what do you think you’re gonna get?” 

mingi pursed his lips, squinting his eyes the smallest bit to get a better look at the too-small words on the menu. he hummed a little at the base of his throat. “iced coffee, i think.” 

a nod. then; “anything in it?” 

mingi smirked a little, and finally looked down to meet san’s gaze. “can’t tell you. you might make your order more difficult than mine.” 

san pouted a little. “how do you know i won’t make mine more difficult anyway after you order?” 

mingi’s response was quick. “who said i was ordering first?”

“then how will i know if you’re making yours more difficult than originally planned?” 

mingi had to pause at that. 

despite the confusion, san admitted that he liked the little lighthearted banter between them. it was much better than the tearfest from a little bit ago, at least. 

a few seconds later mingi had an answer. “we’ll each think of what we want now, and pinky promise that we won’t change it after the other orders.” mingi smiled, pleased with his solution to the problem. 

san tilted his head, his voice light as he teased; “and what if we break the promise without the other ever finding out?” 

mingi’s bottom lip pushed out into a pout. “it’s a pinky promise. you can’t break pinky promises.” 

and oh, wow. san hadn’t realized how utterly pure and innocent mingi could really be. holy shit. 

with an incredulous shake of his head, san lifted his hand, pinky and thumb extended. san’s heart rate sped up as mingi grinned wide, wrapping his own pinky tight around san’s, and tilting their hands to connect their thumbs. he jerked their wrists a little, solidifying the promise. 

“there,” mingi nodded. “now we can’t break it.” 

with that, mingi turned back to the menu, his eyes squinting again. 

_ adorable.  _

they moved up to the next spot in line, and san stopped a few steps ahead of mingi, nearly standing in front of him. he could have sworn he almost felt mingi’s exhale ruffle his hair. goosebumps popped up along his arms and the back of his neck. 

_ fuck _ , they were so  _ close _ . 

it was almost a relief when they finally made it to the front of the line, standing side-by-side once again. 

mingi ordered first, smiling politely at the barista. he asked for a french vanilla iced coffee, large, with some cream and a little bit of sugar. san took notice of the small “please”’s added after each request. he gave the barista his name, and turned to san.

true to his word, san didn’t add anything onto his original order. “i’ll have a caramel iced coffee, please. medium.” he relayed his name and ignored mingi’s triumphant smirk as he pulled out his wallet. 

once mingi paid, they moved to the pick-up line. 

san leaned back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. “do you even  _ like  _ that much shit in your coffee?” 

mingi shook his head, scratching the nape of his neck. “not really. i typically just get the flavor and that’s it.”

san raised a brow. “why did you want to pay so badly? it's just a coffee; it's not that big of a deal.”

“i know. i just…” mingi frowned. “i feel horrible about the other night. i know buying you things is a poor way to make something like that up to you… but i figured it was a good place to start.” 

san had seen plenty of mingi’s smiles in the past half hour or so. he’d seen that bright, boxy grin that showed how happy he was. he saw his nervous smirk, and his genuine smile that was somewhere in between. but this sad smile, the one that showed how horrible he really felt about all of this… san hated to see it. 

san thought about what to say. he wanted to tell mingi that he forgave him, but he hadn’t yet. he wanted to tell mingi the coffee was enough and that there was nothing for mingi to  _ make up,  _ but was that healthy? healthy relationships were about communication and mutual effort (along with  _ other  _ things), right? so if mingi wanted to earn san’s forgiveness, who was san to stop him? 

san still didn’t know if he had any right to even be upset with mingi. mingi had just wanted to live his life and wasn’t afraid of the consequences. he had never meant to hurt san. but he had, so san was allowed to be upset, right? 

he would have to ask yesoang and wooyoung. he needed someone to tell him that he was right to feel this way.

when mingi’s name was called, and his drink was placed on the counter, san mumbled out a small “thank you.”

that was all he  _ could  _ say. for now.

\----

despite everything swirling through the background of mingi’s mind, the first half of the walk to the zoo was relatively enjoyable. both mingi and san shared a few things about themselves, asking questions and laughing at stories told and sipping their iced coffees.

it wasn’t until his coffee was halfway gone that mingi had drawn the courage to ask about some of san’s injuries -- specifically the ones he’d gotten earlier in the year, which seemed sports related. 

“volleyball,” san replied. he had a bittersweet expression. “i only played it for about a week. i loved it, though.”

“why’d you stop?”

“...i didn’t like the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”

mingi didn't think san meant for his response to be such a low blow, but that statement had mingi’s heart falling into his stomach.

“can you rejoin the team next year?”

san shrugged. “it’s a possibility. why?”

“i think -- if you still want to play -- you should try to rejoin the team.”

san stopped walking, and mingi had to backtrack a few steps when he finally realized. 

“why?” 

mingi couldn’t look san in the eye. he felt blood rush to his face and ears and stuffed his empty hand into a pocket. “i just… hate the fact that you quit something you loved for my sake. you should be allowed to have fun and enjoy the things you love without worrying about me.” 

and - oh shit - wasnt that what mingi had been doing all those years? sure, he didn’t  _ love  _ hurting himself, but he loved the adrenaline rush that came with every crazy thing he did. climbing trees, flipping off roofs -- it was all  _ fun _ . it made mingi feel so alive.

based off of san’s expression, he'd come to that realization as well. 

but neither said anything about it. instead, san said; “i’ll talk to the coach about it, then; see if joining the team again is possible for next year.”

they resumed walking - this time in silence. mingi focused on the taps of their shoes, and a tiny bubble of unreasonable joy rose up into his chest when he realized his and san’s steps were in sync. 

a few more bubbles rose when san said; “i’m sorry.”

_ that  _ threw mingi for a loop. “why are you sorry?”

san alternated between nibbling on his lip and chewing on his straw. “you’re allowed to have fun, too, mingi. if throwing yourself out of trees and off of buildings is how you have fun, then… i shouldn’t be the reason you stop doing that.”

mingi stopped and grabbed san’s shoulder, turning san to face him. san looked up at him with wide eyes. “it’s not the same, san. playing a sport and getting small bruises and scrapes is different from breaking your arm or nearly dying. i can find different ways to get an adrenaline rush -- ways that aren't damaging to your health.” mingi made sure to keep his tone steady, so that maybe it would be drilled into san’s head. “you're allowed to be upset with me.”

san’s voice was small and broken when he replied; “...you’re forgiven, mingi. you don’t have to make anything up to me.” 

well, mining certainly hadn't been expecting forgiveness to come that easily. “really?”

san nodded. “yes, really.”

mingi glanced down at san’s empty hand, a small smirk playing at his lips. “then… can i hold your hand?”

san grinned, and held it out for mingi to grab. 

giddily, mingi grasped san’s small hand tight in his, interlacing their fingers together before he could second-guess his actions. he started walking, eagerly pulling a laughing san behind him. “come on, i want to see the giraffes!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what was your favorite part?
> 
> i'm debating what to do next; come up with a bigger plot and make this a longer book, or just do some fluffy little sangi drabbles, like the zoo portion of their date, mingi's birthday, etc. i feel like all of the conflicts have been resolved so i'm leaning toward the drabbles, but let me know what you think!


	4. butterfly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have no valid excuse for why this took so long, please forgive me lol

san really hadn’t been expecting to have so much fun. the zoo was never his favorite -- too many people and crying kids, overpriced admission, and more often than not, the elephant exhibit smelled overpoweringly like poo. why go to a zoo when you could see the animals online and watch videos of them in the wild, out where they belonged?

but he had to admit: his first date with mingi (at the zoo) couldn’t have been more perfect. or maybe it could have been -- all san knew was that he really enjoyed himself. 

solely because mingi seemed so happy, and mingi’s happiness was  _ extremely  _ contagious. his large smile, his boisterous, flamboyant laughter… it all contributed to the fluffy feeling bubbling in san’s chest.

as soon as they stepped through the gates, hands clasped together because mingi refused to let go, mingi was dragging him toward the nearest exhibit with a cry of; “look, sannie, tiny monkeys!” 

san’s heart skipped a beat.  _ sannie _ . 

mingi came to an abrupt stop in front of their enclosure, his eyes as wide as his grin. “they’re so cute!” he gushed. and he was right, they really were cute -- and  _ tiny _ . mingi held his hand up in front of his face, and the largest monkey wasn’t any bigger than his thumb. 

while mingi marveled at the mini creatures, comparing each one to the length of his thumb so he could find the smallest one, san looked at the information board on the side of their enclosure. “they’re called “pygmy marmosets,” he told mingi, a small smile on his lips as mingi repeated the words. “they’re the world’s smallest monkey.”

within the next few minutes, mingi was pulling san to the next enclosure, and then the next, and the next, and the next. 

it wasn’t until they were halfway between the gorillas and the orangutans that mingi paused, turning to san with a sheepish grin. “i’m sorry, i keep dragging you around. i should have asked if you were ready to move on.” 

and san faltered for a second, not quite expecting that from his soulmate. in complete honesty, he was enjoying simply watching mingi. watching mingi have fun and grin and laugh. san didn’t think mingi’s toothy smile had faltered  _ once  _ since they walked through the front gates, and san enjoyed that  _ far more _ than the gorilla that pressed its butt up against the window (which made mingi giggle relentlessly).

san hummed and smiled up at the giant baby. “no worries, mingi-ah. you lead and i'll follow, okay?” 

mingi smiled again, so pure and joyful, and squeezed san’s hand lightly. “let me know if you want to stay a little longer, please? i want you to have fun, too.” 

heart swelling and ears tinged a light red, san nodded. “... as long as you’re having fun, i’ll be happy.”

and maybe that was too sappy for a first date. san cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. he knew he’d replay the sentence over and over again in bed later that night, wondering what on earth had made him say something so disgustingly sweet when he’d only really known mingi for three hours.

but then mingi’s neck flushed a bright red, and he quickly turned and pulled san toward the orangutans once more, mumbling something about how san was “as smooth as a baby’s butt.”

san let out a laugh, and mingi moved faster. 

he still hadn’t let go of san’s hand. 

\----

the butterfly exhibit. 

as much as mingi adored the rest of the animals and would have loved to spend as much time with each of them as possible, the butterfly exhibit had been what he was most looking forward to. it was new, recently put in since the last time mingi and his friends had taken a zoo trip. a large building completely made of glass, and completely dedicated to butterflies. 

he’d read online that the exhibit was supposedly filled with all of the plants that attract butterflies; milkweed, butterfly bush, zinnia, tithonia, and so much more. the exhibit was meant to repopulate different species of butterflies and keep them safe from birds and other predators, though the zoo’s website hadn’t stated if the butterflies were ever released or not. 

either way, mingi’s excitement didn’t quell when he and san stepped into the line. there were a few more groups of people ahead of them, waiting for their turn to stroll through the new exhibit. 

mingi looked down when he felt a light pressure squeeze his hand. 

“i didn’t know there would be a butterfly exhibit,” san told him. 

mingi hummed, swinging their hands back and forth absentmindedly between them. “do you like butterflies?”

san nodded, and mingi felt his own excitement spike at san’s smile. “i do. my grandmother used to have milkweed and some butterfly bushes in her garden, so we had butterflies flying around  _ all the time _ \-- her cat liked to eat them if he could catch them.” san tilted his head, a slightly distant look in his eyes as he stared at the sign that read “butterfly garden” above the door. “haven’t visited her in a while, though.” 

mingi’s lip twitched into a frown. “why’s that?”

san turned to him then, and mingi didn’t miss the way a glassy sheen spread across his eyes. san’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “i’ve just been busy, i guess.” his gaze dropped to his feet, “...i should visit her soon, though.”

mingi thought for a moment, wondering what he could do to lift san’s mood. he hadn’t meant to make san upset again, but at least this time it wasn’t because of something he’d done directly. 

mingi lifted their hands, then, inspecting the thin band of silver on san’s middle finger. he felt san’s eyes shift to him at the sudden movement, but pretended to be more interested in the ring as he asked, voice impossibly quiet; “maybe one day… we could visit her together?” 

then he glanced up, anxious, not expecting to be greeted by san’s smile. it was small and almost fragile. but there was a warmth buried in san’s eyes that soothed mingi’s worries. “i’d like that,” san replied. “i think she would, too.” 

mingi’s mouth split into a smile, and then suddenly the door to the exhibit was opening, one of the butterfly handlers waving them inside with a pleasant smile. mingi gripped san’s hand a little tighter, a silent support in case san needed it, and the pair followed the handler inside the waiting room. 

in the waiting room, the handler told them the rules of the butterfly exhibit; no running, watch your step, and no touching the butterflies. if they landed on you, that was fine, but they weren’t allowed to touch the butterflies’ wings. before the handler opened the next door for them, he warned them to check each other before they left the exhibit to make sure they didn’t have any butterflies on them. then, with a call of “have fun, remember the rules,” the handler opened the door, letting san and mingi step inside. 

the butterfly exhibit, to the zoo's credit, had been far better than mingi was expecting. with more butterflies than he’d ever seen fluttering around the interior of the large glass building, and the extensive amount of colorful foliage surrounding them on all sides, it really looked like they were walking through something out of a fairy tale. mingi let out a breathy, excited giggle, mouth open wide as he gazed around with eyes of wonder. 

“this is  _ so  _ cool,” he gushed. he and san took slow, even steps across the path, careful not to step on any butterflies that may be underfoot. 

san laughed lightly beside him, and mingi was pleased to find that his mood seemed to have lifted. “it really is,” he agreed. then, he pointed to a large butterfly that had landed on a flower beside them. its wings were black, a pretty shade of blue lining the edges in a thick stripe. “look, it’s a blue admiral.” 

mingi didn’t know why he was so shocked that san knew the name of the butterfly, especially since there were pictures in the waiting room of each butterfly with both their scientific and common names written beneath them. but mingi didn’t think san had taken the time to memorize them. “how did you know that?”

san was bent over slightly, his arm tugging on mingi’s without meaning to, peering down at the butterfly with a light smile. “know what?” he hummed and turned his head around to face mingi. “the name?”

mingi nodded. 

“ah,” san stood back up, but his gaze fell back to the butterfly, it’s wings flapping slowly. “my grandmother taught all of the names to me. as a little girl, she somehow memorized all 17,500 species, but i only ever got to fifty. at this point, i only really remember the common ones indigenous to south korea, but i don’t doubt she still knows all 17,500.” 

mingi gaped at him, widened eyes following san’s head as he moved on, tugging mingi lightly behind him. “that’s amazing,” he marveled. “i didn’t even know there  _ were  _ that many.” 

san laughed again, and with each time mingi heard it, the more he found he would do anything to hear it just one more time. “there are a lot that are similar, from what i remember. a lot only have some really subtle differences, so it’s kind of difficult to tell them apart.” 

they continued on through the exhibit, san sometimes stopping so he could point one out to mingi and name it. mingi tried his best to submit them to memory, and sometimes, if he felt confident enough, he would point to one close to them and ask; “that one’s a painted lady, right?”

san would smile, then, mildly amused as he corrected him. “no, that one’s a sephisa princeps; it doesn’t have a common name. you can tell because it has less black and the orange is a little duller.” 

being wrong once didn’t deter mingi from asking again. he liked hearing san talk about something he was passionate about. 

they were nearly to the end of the exhibit when san pulled mingi to a stop. until that point, mingi had been watching two butterflies up in the air, either fighting or having sex. mingi wasn’t sure he really wanted to know which it was, or if butterflies could even  _ have  _ sex. it seemed almost impossible, but you could never really be sure with insects. hell, even  _ ants  _ could have sex, and that had seemed anatomically impossible to mingi for years until yunho told him about it -- 

all thoughts of insect intercourse vacated his mind when mingi turned to san, immediately dropping san’s hand and fumbling for his phone buried in his pocket. 

a butterfly had landed on the tip of san’s nose, its wings spread across his face. san’s eyes were wide with excitement above the tip of the butterfly’s wings, his body so tense mingi thought he might burst a vessel somewhere. 

“don’t move,” mingi warned, his voice low. he quickly opened his camera app and snapped a few photos of san, a giddy grin on his lips. “ _ this is so cool _ .” 

then mingi went back through his camera roll quicker than he ever had, checking over the photos and making sure they weren’t blurry or oddly angled or off center. he was able to snap one last picture in portrait mode before the butterfly decided it’d had enough and flew off. san’s body deflated as they watched it go for a long moment, and then suddenly he was grabbing onto mingi’s bicep with an ecstatic cry of; “let me see!”

mingi laughed, holding out his phone and slowly swiping through each of the pictures he took for san. “that one looks really good,” san pointed at the very last one, the picture mingi had taken with portrait mode. the background was blurred out, san and the butterfly on his nose the only two things in focus. 

“i can send it to you,” mingi offered. 

but san only waved him off with a content smile. “we can do that later.” mingi nodded, and san looked back down at his phone. “do you remember what kind of butterfly that is?”

mingi followed his gaze, double tapping on the screen to zoom in on the butterfly. the base color of its wings were black, like the blue admiral. but while the blue admiral had  _ blue _ , this butterfly's wings had a few different colors spread across its wings; a metallic green across the very top, a skinny yellow stripe on the bottom, and small pink dots, shaped almost like flower petals. “is that… an alpine black swallowtail?”

san looked up at him, something akin to pride written across his expression. “it is.” 

mingi was excited to see the butterfly exhibit from the very beginning, but now he had a brand new appreciation for the beautiful creatures. 

\----

once they stepped out of the butterfly exhibit, double and triple-checking that neither of them had gained another winged friend, san and mingi made their way to the next set of exhibits. mingi’s hand had yet to make its way back into san’s, but san didn’t think it would take long. he figured that once mingi put away the map he had grabbed, he would be intertwining san’s fingers with his own, ready to pull him to their next destination. 

“looks like we’re heading into the last section,” mingi looked up from his map, something of a bittersweet smile on his lips. “we only have five more animals left.”

mingi was disappointed, that much san could tell. san didn’t doubt mingi could spend the whole day at the zoo, and the thought of leaving upset him. for san, he wasn’t really sad to leave - just unhappy that his time with mingi was coming to a close sooner than he would have liked. 

then the familiar warmth of mingi’s hand encased his own, long fingers crossing with shorter ones, just like san thought they would. “come on,” mingi began the short walk toward the zebras. “we’re almost at the giraffes.”

san tried to enjoy his time with mingi while it lasted. he succeeded for the most part, but every few minutes his mind would drift back to the fact that once they left the zoo, all they had left was the walk back to the cafe before san’s friends would be coming to pick him up. 

mingi’s grin wasn’t fully restored until they finally reached the giraffe exhibit. mingi quickly rushed up to the fence like a little kid, completely abandoning san’s hand. san laughed at him, watched him turn back around, pointing to the giraffe’s a short distance away, face as bright as the sun. “look, sannie!” he called, immediately turning back around to watch the tall animals. 

san smiled fondly and reached into one of his many pockets, pulling out his phone. he ignored the text messages he’d received from wooyoung and yesoang asking about how the date was going, and briefly acknowledged a “good luck!” text from his sister before opening up his own camera app. he raised his phone, making sure mingi was in the very center with the giraffes still visible in the background. he took a few shots that way, moving his phone around for different angles and zooming in and out to see how much of the background he really wanted in his photo. 

and then, wondering why san hadn’t joined him by the fence, mingi turned around. san watched him do so in the camera, taking a few more pictures. he looked up from the mingi in his phone to the mingi in real life, admiring the way mingi’s features altered as a shy smile formed on his lips. san snapped another picture. 

“you wanna see?” he asked, stepping forward. 

mingi nodded eagerly, looking over san’s shoulder when he sidled up next to him. ignoring (attempting to) the way mingi’s presence loomed almost guaringly beside him (definitely didn’t make him blush), san started at the very first picture, swiping to the right every few seconds. each photo was slightly different, whether it be the angle, the size of mingi’s silhouette, or the lighting. mingi commented on each one, letting san know which photo he liked the best once they made it the whole way through.

san already knew which one  _ he  _ liked the best. 

san glanced at the time, a sigh rising from his chest. “it’s getting kinda late.”

he looked up at mingi, already expecting the pout. “i wish we didn’t have to go yet.”

san’s lips quirked upward in a sympathetic smile. “me too. but i promised my mom i’d be home for dinner, so…”

mingi nodded, gazing back out at the giraffes. one reached up into a tall tree, pulling leaves from the branches and passing them down to a younger giraffe beneath it. “how long until you need to be home?” 

san shrugged. “an hour? but until we walk back to the cafe and my friends drive me home, it’ll probably be about that long.”

mingi continued to pout, and san thought he could see the gears churning away in his brain. 

san smiled softly. “no one said i actually had to eat dinner there, i just had to be home.” mingi raised a brow in confusion, and san elaborated. “i saw a food stand on the way here. wanna grab something on the way?”

at the mention of food, mingi’s eyes began to light up. “sure,” and then he grabbed san’s hand once more. they walked out of the zoo side by side, mingi throwing one last look at the giraffes before they left.

the food stand turned out to be tteokbokki; five rice cakes per skewer. instead of completely spoiling their dinners, they each settled on a singular stick. since mingi had paid for their drinks earlier in the day and san had already forgiven him, san insisted that he pay for the tteokbokki. 

begrudgingly, mingi let him, and then they were on their way. 

“what’s your favorite butterfly?” mingi asked him, biting off a part of the top rice cake as he held a napkin beneath the skewer to catch any of the sauce that might drip off. 

san chewed on his own tteokbokki as he thought. there were definitely a lot of butterflies he really loved, most of which he’d seen in his grandmother’s garden since he was a child. his favorite, though, had to be one he would  _ kill  _ to see in real life. “the glasswing butterfly,” he told mingi. “most of its wings are see-through.” 

mingi’s eyes widened, and he turned to san with a mouth full of food. “really?”

“mhm,” san hummed. “what about you? do you have a favorite butterfly yet?”

mingi smiled softly. “the blue admiral. i like its name.” 

san laughed, eyes alight with amusement. “i think you would like the red admiral too, then.”

“is there a purple admiral too?”

“yes, actually. except it’s not purple.” 

mingi gaped at him, unamused. “you’re kidding.”

san shook his head. “i’m not.”

“that’s stupid. why would they name it the purple admiral if there’s no purple?”

the conversation continued on until they reached the cafe, mingi and san asking each other about their favorite animals. when san inquired about the giraffes, mingi explained with an embarrassed smile that it was what all of his friends called him in middle school, and the nickname had quickly become his favorite animal. 

mingi pulled san onto a bench in front of the cafe, nibbling on the end of his tteokbokki stick. “are your friends on their way?”

“they should be.” san glanced at his phone screen. “i texted them when we left the zoo.”

mingi nodded, still chewing on the skewer. 

san frowned at the blank look on his face. “what’s wrong?”

mingi snapped his eyes to san, shaking his head. “nothing, nothing. i just… i’m nervous to meet them. your friends.”

san’s mouth fell open in an “o”, and he nodded in understanding. “well, i’m not gonna tell you that you shouldn’t be, because i know that won’t do anything.”

mingi snorted a little. 

“but, really, you have nothing to worry about. wooyoung might give you a little shit about the past few years, but he’ll warm up to you soon enough. and yeosang’s the reason we even found each other in the first place, so…”

mingi was silent for a long moment, twirling the wooden stick between his pointer finger and the pad of his thumb. then he looked into san’s eyes, a bit of an upturn to his brows. “are you sure you forgive me?”

san’s response was immediate. “i’m sure, mingi.”

“... 100%?”

san grabbed mingi’s hand with both of his, turning on the bench to face him completely. “100%. i’ve already thought it over, mingi, and i’ve forgiven you. so i don’t want you to worry about it anymore.” 

mingi searched his expression for any hint of a lie, but san spoke with so much sincerity and there was a certain firmness to his expression. so mingi relented, his shoulders drooping. “okay. i’ll try not to.” 

smoothing his thumb across the back of mingi’s hand came naturally as san smiled. “if it makes you feel any better, i think i’m going to try to get back on the volleyball team.”

and mingi’s eyes lit up. “really? that’s great! can i come to one of your games?”

at san’s nod, mingi’s grin spread. 

“i’m just worried the coach won’t let me play, now that we’re so far into the season.”

“i’ll come even if you’re on the bench the whole game,” mingi promised, something of a proud grin on his lips. 

san laughed softly, his eyes crinkling shut. “i’ll hold you to that, then,” he swore, though he knew he wouldn’t be upset with mingi if he didn’t come to a game where he was stuck on the bench the whole time. 

a car pulled up the curb in front of them, one that was familiar to san. he barely had time to stand and pull mingi off the bench before the passenger door was being thrown open, wooyoung tripping out onto the street and quickly rounding the front of the car. his arms were open wide, a grin splitting his lips. “sannie!” 

san smiled, accepting the hug when wooyoung practically jumped on him, woo’s flailing arm “accidentally” smacking mingi in the face. 

“wooyoung,” san warned, a worried eye watching as mingi stumbled back a bit, rubbing his cheek with a pout.

wooyoung fell back on his heels, unwrapping his arms from around san’s shoulders. “what?”

san rolled his eyes. “you hit mingi when you hugged me.”

wooyoung gasped and lifted a hand to his mouth, failing to hide his sly smirk from san. “did i? oh no, i'm so sorry, mingi-ssi! i hope i didn’t hurt you.” his eyebrows upturned in mock worry. 

“i-i’m fine,” mingi assured, but was still pouting. san knew it had hurt; he felt the dull pain in his own cheek, too. 

and then suddenly a hand whacked the back of wooyoung’s head, and san peered around a whining wooyoung to find yeosang. “you’re such a bitch, woo,” he commented. 

“but i was defending sannie!” wooyoung cried. 

“i don’t need defending, woo.” san sighed. 

wooyoung pouted at him. “but--”

“no.”

wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, but he relented. “fine.” he turned to face mingi, and angled himself into a deep bow. “im sincerely sorry. i didn’t mean to hit you in the face.” his voice was a deadpan monotone, entirely insincere. but san supposed it was the best they were going to get for now. 

“it’s fine,” mingi replied, eyes flicking toward san in slight panic. 

sna smiled, a small, soft smile. “mingi,” he sidled up next to his soulmate, resting a hand on his arm and gesturing toward his friends with the other. “this is jung wooyoung and kang yeosang, my best friends.”

mingi bent into a small bow. “it’s nice to meet you,” he greeted them. “i’m song mingi.”

yeosang returned the greeting, elbowing wooyoung when he remained quiet. 

san nodded toward the car. “you guys go ahead. i’ll be right there.” 

yeosang nodded, waving to mingi and grabbing wooyoung’s arm to pull him toward the car. wooyoung climbed into the back of the car this time, letting room for san in the front -- probably so they could both bug him easier, san thought. 

once the doors were safely closed, san turned to mingi, an apology already on his lips. “i’m sorry about wooyoung. he’s very… protective.”

mingi shrugged, trying to look indifferent. “it’s okay. i kinda deserved it, i think.”

san shook his head. “you don’t. you know what you did wrong and we’re both learning and growing from it. so get those thoughts out of your head.” san gave him a stern look, internally hoping that if he repeated it enough times mingi would finally get it in his head that san didn’t blame him for anything. 

and then mingi smiled, nodded, took san’s hand in his once more. “okay.”

with a sweet smile, san pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a new contact. “here, put your number in. i want to send you the pictures i took.” 

“is that the only reason?” mingi smirked, his large hand delicately plucking san’s phone out of his lax grip. 

san shrugged, averting his eyes. but there was a teasing smirk on his raspberry-glossed lips. “and maybe i’ll be texting you later, too.” 

a light blush climbed mingi’s neck and colored his ears. “i’ll be looking forward to it,” he told san, his voice soft. then he handed san back his phone. 

san tucked it back into his pocket, quickly deciding to send mingi the pictures later. “so,” he began. “will there be a date number two in the near future, or am i going to have to wait again?”

the pout was back, and mingi was squeezing his hand. “i don’t wanna wait too long, sannie.” 

a warm feeling bloomed in san’s chest, despite the chill of the night air. “how about this weekend?” he prompted. “we can go to the beach, and i’ll bring yeo and woo and you can bring all of your friends?”

“sounds perfect,” mingi mused. “i’ll let you know what they say.”

san hummed. “perfect.”

they stood there for a long moment, staring into each other's eyes. neither really wanted to go first. 

but with one quick glance at the car, noticing the way wooyoung’s face was pressed up against the window, san relented. he couldn’t keep his friends waiting any longer, and it was already getting late enough. 

san stepped forward, a disappointed sigh rising from his chest. “i should get going,” he told mingi, finding the way his lips pushed into a frown and his eyes glimmered like stars absolutely adorable. he squeezed mingi’s hand once more with a promise of “i’ll text you,” before letting go. 

then he stepped back. hesitated a moment. 

san stepped forward, reached up, and pressed his lips to mingi’s cheek. it was a quick kiss, no more than a simple butterfly peck, but it made san’s insides alight with nerves. 

the grin that split on mingi’s face was worth it, though. 

that, and the muffled screech that came from inside yeosang’s car. 

san stepped back again, a “bye mingi,” falling from his lips. 

“bye, sannie.” mingi called back, still grinning. 

san turned and tried not to speed-walk around the car, pausing at the door to wave to mingi. 

mingi waved back, and then, a giddy expression on his face, san climbed into the car. 

“you guys are disgustingly adorable,” wooyoung said as soon as san’s door was closed. “like seriously, i think i threw up in my mouth a little when you kissed him cause it was so grossly adorable.”

yeosang started up the car, waving to mingi through the window before pulling away from the curb. “you were literally threatening to kill mingi on the way here, and now you think they’re adorable?”

“irrelevant.”

san rolled his eyes at the conversation. instead of joining in, he slipped his phone from his pocket once more, mingi’s contact staring up at him as soon as he unlocked his phone. he quickly changed the contact photo to his favorite giraffe exhibit picture, the one where mingi was flashing him that shy smile. then san sent it and the others to his soulmate. 

a read receipt popped up immediately, followed by the thought bubble in the lower right corner. 

**mingi <3**

who knew that when i found my soulmate i’d be getting a personal photographer too ^-^

san smiled and let out an amused snort. 

then mingi sent the pictures of san and the butterfly, and san saved them all to his camera roll. 

**sannie**

thank you mingi

i had a lot of fun today

at least the second half of the day lol

text me when you make it home

**mingi <3**

i will!

i had a lot of fun too :D

san smiled, tucked his phone away within eyesight, and began relaying the day’s events to his best friends. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter marks the start of the drabbles! I have some things planned but let me know if there's something you'd like to see! I can't promise I'll write it because there is something of a timeline i'd like to follow in this "universe", but that doesn't mean I won't get to it eventually!


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